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with the note. She’d probably read theVanity Fair article and decided that a chocolate-covered strawberry was just the ticket.

    Tobias wouldn’t care what she bought. From his point of view, the only purpose of the package was to deliver the note and pump up my ego after my first critical scene and before the next one tomorrow.

    There it is again: another reminder that tomorrow’s scenes are critical. I can practically feel my credit cards crying, knowing that they’re not going to get a promised workout.

    “Listen,” I say to Andy. “Maybe it would be a good idea to run lines after all.”

    “I thought you were meeting someone.”

    “I was. I am. I mean, there’s no reason why I can’t do both,” I say, even as the idea enters my head. “Do you mind meeting up later?” It’s still early. I can shop for a few hours with Lindy, and easily be finished in time to get in a few hours of rehearsal.

    “Sure,” he says. “Do you want me to come over to your house?”

    I hesitate, because for years, my number-one rule has been to not get too close to fans. Fans, after all, can be scary.

    But this is different. This is Andy, our official story consultant. He’s not only on the payroll, he’s a genuinely nice guy.

    Plus, he’s been a victim, too. So we already have that much in common.

    “Sure,” I say, coming to a decision. I pull a notepad out of my purse and scribble my address, directions, and my phone number. “How does eight sound?”

    “Perfect,” he says with a glance at the note. “I think this will be really productive.”

    “Yeah,” I say. “Me, too.” But I can’t quite conjure a matching smile. I’ve just broken my own hard-and-fast rule. And I can only hope that I don’t live to regret it.

    Chapter6

    >>http://www.playsurvivewin.com<<<

    PLAY.SURVIVE.WIN

    WELCOME TO REPORTING CENTER

    PLAYER REPORT:

    REPORT NO. A-0001

    Filed by: Janus

    Subject: Status update.

    Report:

    • Toxin delivered as per instructions. Awaiting confirmation of infection.

    • Delivery of additional systems established and scheduled as per introductory instructions.

    • Game currently proceeding on schedule.

    >>>End Report<<

    Send Report to Opponent? >>Yes<< >>No<<

    Block Sender Identity >>Yes<< >>No<<

    Chapter7

    Blake clenched his hands into fists at his sides, trying to keep quiet as his manager went off on his latest tirade.

    “Are youtrying to fuck up your career?” Elliot howled. “That’s what I want to know. Because if you’re trying, then I owe you a congratulations. You’re doing one hell of a good job.”

    Blake stiffened, reminding himself that he’d known this was coming. For that matter, considering the strings Elliot had pulled to arrange the satellite feed, the man had every right to be pissed. Except for the tiny little detail about Blake not wanting the interview in the first place, and Elliot damn well knowing it. “Last I looked, this was stillmy career,” he said. “Or did I miss a memo?”

    “Dammit, Blake, you just don’t get it.”

    “No,you don’t get it,” he spat, trying to keep his temper in check. Now wasn’t the time or the place for a knock-down, drag-out. Not with the press on the set and the crew still wandering around. In this day of camera phones, anyone could snap a picture, and three hours later it would be all over the Internet. He could see the headline now: “Fresh from Breakup with Darling Devi, Bad Boy Blake Breaks Down on the Set.”

    “Well all right, then,” Elliot said, his Brooklyn accent sneaking in around the edges. “You tell me what I don’t get.” He aimed a fat finger at Blake’s face. “You tell me why I’ve managed to keep every one of my clients at the top of his game, but for you, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. You wanna tell me that?”

    “Honestly, no,” Blake said. “I don’t want to talk about it. I made a decision. It’s done. End of story.” He knew why Elliot was pissed, but the decision was a good one. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d hurt Devi in that last